Boyfriend?
by Ms. International
Summary: In which Matthew plays hard to get and needs more than just a confession to become Alfred's boyfriend. (small bits of FrUK in here; more pairings in next chapter) -ON HIATUS JACKASS 'RENTS, THAT'S WHY-


**A/N: I seriously don't know on what the hell am I doing with my life. Dishing out some USCan. Enjoy. More treats to come, they're just baking in the oven.**

"It's just that, library committee and jocks just don't get along together."

Mattie's words echoed in his mind, still fresh even after a week had passed. Alfred scratched his head, a habit he often did when in deep thought.

'_Now why would Mattie think that?'_

It was 4 in the afternoon then, just like today, when the sun was honey; sticky and sweet and hazy. Basketball practice had just finished in the past hour or so, and he was on his way to the big-ass library located in the east building of the academy.

Alfred was in a phase that time; where he had slipped off into a mindset where girls were no longer of any interest-they were all the same, to be honest. Bouncy hair, hourglass figures-all C cups and round asses- long legs and bitchy personalities. Boring.

So there he was, lounging in the library, browsing through an old copy of some celebrity magazine, when he looked up and saw the most beautiful person ever.

It was like in the movies, only it was the sun this time and not a spotlight, the music the murmurs of people and not a grand orchestra or something.

He was standing off to the side of a bookshelf, just under one of the stained glass windows in the library. The sun made his straw colored wavy hair shine like gold thread, fine and silky. His eyes had a somewhat sleepy look to them, but they sparkled nonetheless. It was the color, though, that had reeled him in. They were a hypnotizing shade of amethyst, like the sky moments after the sun fell, or like the lake he once saw back at a countryside. His skin was fair, like porcelain, smooth to the touch, and delicate like a spider's web, easily bruised by a kiss. The features were almost feminine, tiny and dainty, but still not quite like a girl's.

Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from this . . . beauty, this beautiful creation, this pretty doll.

Then, like a deer caught in headlights, his own ocean blue eyes widened when he looked in his direction. Murmurs died and bright colors faded. It was as if everything blurred away when he looked in his way, his eyes. It went on for a while, just staring at each other for what seemed like eternity.

Then he walked over, a small smile tugging at his lips. Those rosy pink lips that he loved to kiss...

"Like what you see?"

Alfred shook out of his daze. Had he really been staring at him?

He stammered. "Has anyone ever told you that you're as gorgeous as fuck?"

He chuckled. His laugh was like wind chimes caught in a summer breeze, tinkling and melodious. His voice was soft and sweet.

He took a seat across Alfred.

"Friends, maybe. Matthew Williams. You?" He held out a hand.

"Uh, Alfred Jones. Alfred F. Jones."

And that was how he met Matthew.

(line break)

Matthew was Canadian, which Alfred chalked up to be a good thing, because he was American, and Americans and Canadians were the best of friends.

He was also a freshman, albeit in the other section, which usually meant that he wouldn't be able to see Matthew as much as he had hoped (and wanted). But whenever he had a chance, be it dismissal, lunch or free time, he hopped to it.

He had also learned more about Matthew; The first being that he had a super sized sweet tooth, once having finished a box of Russell Stover chocolates all by himself. Second was having a likeness for hockey, having played in competitions here and there.

Matthew was also a consistent honor roll student, placing at 5th place every quarter; his favorite subjects were English and Home Ed, aside from his French classes. His favorite color was purple. He loved maple syrup, pouring out huge amounts every time he ate it with pancakes. He also had a pet bear named Kumajirou, but always seemed to forget its name, the bear having the same case as his master.

Mattie (he had decided to call him by this name, the Canadian didn't mind) was also incredibly shy but amazingly sweet and gentle, apologizing every time (Alfred was sure this was a Canadian stereotype of being over polite, but he found it cute) and sometimes ending his sentences with an 'eh' (which was really, really cute).

Alfred could go on and on for hours citing useless information, but he could care less. There was just something about him that was mysterious, at the same time beautiful and enchanting, and he wanted to find out what it was. Alfred's thirst to know more about Matthew was never quenched.

Matthew was like this drug, something addicting and something he couldn't get enough of.

They had this casual-flirty kind of friendship going on for a while, all teasing and fleeting touches.

(line break)

It was after several weeks that had passed that the tide changed.

They became fuck buddies or some kind of friends with benefits type thing.

It happened somewhere along the lines of after a draining basketball meeting, when Alfred had rushed to the library sweating and panting, still in his jersey, ignoring the strange looks everyone was giving him.

Matthew just so happened to be on the brink of having to find Alfred himself, seeing as the blonde was already 10 minutes late, and he had texted the American earlier informing him of where they would hang out.

So when he saw Alfred standing there in all his American glory, flushed and panting, cheeks tinted a faint pink, blonde hair all messy and mussed up, just slightly tanned and a little bit more toned . . .

And when Alfred looked at Matthew, purple eyes dark with something, a frown on his face, peeved at having to wait for so long, looking all tempting and sexy with his hands on his hips, annoyed at his late arrival. . .

They both lost it.

Alfred didn't know how they ended up at that dark corner in the library (where nearly everyone in the school made out) without looking like horny cats, but he remembered how their teeth slightly banged when they leaned forward to kiss, how the sting of Matthew's slap on his arm when he made a move for his belt, Matthew's moans as he pressed hot open mouthed kisses all over his body, and the mind blowing orgasm they reached.

Matthew was panting and clawing at him, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, shaking slightly from Alfred's brutal thrusts. He was grunting, gripping Matthew's hips and trying to force himself deeper into that tight, delicious heat.

It was after they both came that he and Matthew shared small, nervous smiles that it became slightly awkward. (At least it wasn't both their firsts).

Still, fucking was fucking, right?

So it continued for a while. Alfred had discovered that Matthew was actually in the library committee, and that meetings were every Tuesday and Thursday, so they scheduled their 'flings' around those days.

It was after a particularly hazy 'fling' that Alfred realized something. He was falling in love with Matthew. He looked over at Matthew in renewed awe as he zipped up his pants.

He turned back to himself, drowning in deep thought.

At first, he merely took the interest in the Canadian as the need for a new friend, seeing as how everyone started fading to a boring black and white color, and Matthew was a bright shade of purple.

"So, next Thursday?" The Canadian's soft voice broke his train of thought.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Alfred smiled at the light blonde.

Matthew returned the smile, before leaning up and giving him a peck on the cheek.

'_Well, looks like we've got some construction to do, huh?'_ Alfred thought, zipping up his pants and walking out of the library.

(line break)

And so, Alfred learned he had fallen far from the shallow depths of love.

He was in love with Matthew. Not falling for him.

This was after a consultation with Hungary and Kiku. Those two, like, ran some kind of club that catered to relationships and stuff. They had a lot services like: consultations, seminars, putting on shows, but it all boiled down to helping an estranged love struck fool. It was called, "Y.A. O. I." Alfred didn't know what the letters stood for, but as long as they could help, he was happy.

And so there he was, sitting down in the kitchenette of the dorm he shared with Francis and Arthur. Those two finally declared themselves a couple after a year and a half of fights and built-up sexual tension.

He and Arthur were sort of related. Arthur's uncle was his godfather. Francis was a good friend of his, just that he was over perverted or something. But ever since he had started dating old-fashioned Artie, his hands never touched anyone else's body but the Brit's. Thank God.

But then, it made sense. He had fallen past the stage of 'falling in love'. The casual brushes of their fingers, lingering touches, the way Matthew's laugh sent shivers down in his stomach, or how being around Matthew always set off the butterflies inside him.

He really was in love.

But, did Matthew have feelings for him like he did?

'_I mean, you would let someone make out with you or fuck you if you liked them, right? At least a little bit. Or not. But then, what did friends with benefits really mean?'_

He was getting dizzy all over again. Too much questions. He chugged down the rest of his coffee, 10 minute break finished. He picked up his pen again, determined to finish his science homework.

'_Madeleine has violet eyes, but her husband Thomas does not. Madeleine's father has violet eyes, but her mother does not. What is the probability that Madeleine and Thomas's child will have violet eyes?'_

Damn genetics.

(line break)

He felt nervous the following Thursday. He had decided to tell Mattie about his feelings right then, right there (he had no problems about his sexuality-he was bi). As he was led into the back, he couldn't help but envision several scenarios of Matthew's reaction to his confession. There was acceptance, rejection, anger…

Rejection so far was the worst, anger following suit.

And so, right after he came, Matthew having moments before, he sighed and bit his lip. This was it.

"Matt?"

The Canadian lifted his head from Alfred's shoulder.

"I have to tell you something. Just listen to everything."

Matthew nodded.

"Okay. I like you. As in, like-like. And what's more, I've fallen past the early stages of love- I'm infatuated with you. I really, really. . . I mean, you are the nicest person I have ever met, and you're charming and beautiful and all-and somehow, you've managed to rise to my standards for a perfect girlfriend as well. I'm not calling you one, but-ugh, never mind."

He paused for a moment to check Matthew's reaction. The blonde merely smiled, a silent urge to continue. Seeing as how there were no negative emotions portrayed on Mattie's face, he continued.

"You're humble, down too earth, and you're honest and sincere. You care about others. You eat, for God's sake. You're cute, funny and witty, and not bitchy at all. You don't whine and complain and make a big fuss about the smallest things. You don't give up easily; you don't scream "I hate my life" or "My life sucks" if you can't solve a problem. You don't look for anyone else's pity, and you don't take no bullshit from others either.

You're not demanding or bossy or pushy or spoiled. You're not all-"Can you please do this for me, Al? It's so mundane."-when you're really just planting a flower or something. I mean, you've got everything. I could go on and on for hours just listing all the things that are awesome about you, but-point is, I was going to ask you if you could be my boyfriend."

Matthew looked slightly shocked, but then smiled again, before saying,

"Al? Can you pull out?"

Alfred's face turned from questioning to horror.

"Oh God, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I meant to-" Alfred immediately pulled out, mentally cursing himself for being stupid. God! Who the hell asks someone to be his boyfriend when they still haven't pulled out and is only in a friends with benefits relationship with that person?! Fuck! He didn't even know what he was thinking anymore, or if he made sense. Fuck it all.

Matthew, noticing Alfred's mortified expression, simply chuckled and ruffled his hair. He disentangled himself and stood shakily, walking slowly to a desk and leaning on it for support as he wiped away the cum trailing down his leg.

"Alfie, I like you too. More than I think I should. But that's ok. My world is a little cold and stuffy, and I could use your sunshine and happiness to melt away the icecaps of loneliness and sadness. It's just that," Mattie straightened Alfred's jacket.

"-library committee and jocks just don't get along together."

To which he winked and pressed a soft kiss to Alfred's chapped lips and walked away, having dressed speedily while talking.

Alfred didn't follow; mentally and physically. But, he had the vaguest idea that it most definitely meant something.


End file.
